The Chaperone

by Hashinaka Choko (橋中蝶子)


Rebecca drummed her fingers on the car window, glancing in the rear-view mirror at Mark and sidelong at her mother. This already promised to be the most awkward evening ever, and the fact that her mother was driving them made it even worse. Honestly, she should have just killed Mark when he brought up the idea.

They pulled up outside of Ben’s house and Rebecca slid out of the car. “Bye mom, thanks, I’ll call you when we’re ready to go, bye!” She shut the door before her mom could reply and grabbed Mark by the arm, hauling him up the driveway.

“Ouch! Becca, let go!” Mark waved at Rebecca’s mom, jerking her arm out of her hold. “Look, I know you’re a little ticked off-”

“What part of this seemed like a good idea to you, out of curiosity?” Rebecca snapped. “‘I met this really cute guy, and we’re really into each other and his parents won’t be home.'”


“‘Oh wait, I don’t drive, and my parents don’t know I’m gay but they know he is. No problem, I’ll just conscript my best friend, and make her sit downstairs while we do the nasty.'”

“Becca, really, I would do the same thing for you,” Mark grumbled.

“Yeah, sure, you say that. This is, what, number five that I’ve had to tag along with? When will you stop using me as your chaperone?”

It was, in fact, number five. Rebecca was Mark’s convenient excuse – his parents certainly suspected, with him hanging out with this many guys they knew without a doubt were queer as a three dollar bill, but with Rebecca along they wouldn’t think anything sexual was going on.

They underestimated how badly their son wanted to get laid, apparently. And also, apparently, how nice Rebecca was.

Or how much of a pushover I am, Rebecca thought grimly. She walked up to the door, her sketchbook tucked under her arm, and knocked.

Ben answered the door a bare three seconds after she got done. On a purely aesthetic level, she had to admit that Mark knew how to pick them. Ben was tall, broad-shouldered and fit, dark-skinned with curly black hair, a prominent nose…

…And stunningly bright blue eyes. He always gets the cute ones. My boyfriends are always gangly and awkward, and he gets the dream boy. It’s not fair.

“Hi Mark,” Ben said, and then his eyes lit on Rebecca. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi, Ben,” Mark said, his smile bordering on goofy.

Rebecca slipped past Ben into the house. “While you guys are busy making googly eyes at each other, I’m going to get a drink,” she declared.

“Um-” Ben started to say, but he never got finished. Rebecca was around the corner and in his kitchen, poking through the cabinets. “What is she doing here?” he asked Mark, instead.

“She’s always here,” Mark said. “I’m not out yet, remember? She’s my chaperone.”

“…Chaperone?” Ben asked cautiously.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rebecca called from the kitchen. “I don’t take my duties seriously at all. Have fun, I’ll be asleep on the couch.”

“Well, um. That might be a problem,” Ben said, and Rebecca poked her head around the corner to see a blush starting to become visible even on his dark skin. “See, I don’t exactly have a bedroom.”

“Huh?” Mark asked, something akin to dismay creeping into his expression. Rebecca rolled her eyes. Honestly, there’s more to a relationship than just sex.

“Uh, well, come see,” Ben said, gesturing to the staircase. The two of them followed him up, and immediately saw what he was talking about.

No, he didn’t have a bedroom. Or, more accurately, he didn’t have a bedroom with walls. Ben’s bedroom consisted of a curtained-off part of the stair landing, with a small couch backed up against the railing overlooking the living room and an even smaller dresser shoved in the corner between the couch and the wall. There was a bare six square feet of floor space – if that – which was covered in boxes of Ben’s stuff.

Ben shifted. “I’m not exactly the favorite,” he explained. “My parents don’t really know what to do with me, now that I’m out. They kicked me out of my stepbrother’s room,” he rolled his eyes, “so that I wouldn’t molest him I guess, and I can’t room with my sister either.”

There was a short pause. Rebecca sipped her glass of water to keep from doing something rash – like going to find something slimy to put in Ben’s parents’ bed. Mark slipped a hand around Ben’s waist, pulling him closer. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low.

Rebecca rolled her eyes again and put her hand on her heart. “I solemnly swear that I won’t listen,” she said. “Or watch. Whatever. The couch is calling my name.”

She tromped down the stairs, only halfway down before the sounds of making out drifted down after her. Apparently Ben really wants to get laid, too, she thought sourly.

The mental images were the worst, she decided, after the fourth stuttered gasp sounded through the living room. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t banish the thought of bare skin on skin, Mark and Ben moving together – only compounded by the heavy breathing from the landing.

That’s it, Rebecca snarled mentally, setting her sketchbook down on the table. If I have to be in practically the same room as my best friend while he’s getting some and I’m not, then I’m damn well going to get something out of it. Even a glimpse would probably give her enough fuel for weeks of fantasies. And they’ll be entirely too occupied to see me, I guarantee it.

Quietly, she crossed the living room and crept up the stairs, laying on her stomach with just her eyes peeking over the bottom step, through the crack between the makeshift curtain and the stair rail.

She had been wrong. The mental images weren’t the worst – this was far more embarrassing.

Ben was on his back, one foot on the floor and one foot flung over the back of the couch, his eyes half-shut and his mouth open – he was the source of the heavy breathing. But it was what Mark was doing that had Rebecca blushing to the roots of her hair. He had one hand around the base of Ben’s – very nice, if I do say so myself – cock, and his lips wrapped around the head of it. As she watched, he slid his mouth up and down, quiet slurping noises escaping him as he –

Holy shit, Rebecca thought. Holy shit, holy shit, holy-

Mark did something that apparently felt very good, because one of Ben’s hands flew to his mouth and the other to the back of Mark’s head, holding him there as his hips bucked up. Mark made a small, distressed choking noise and Ben relented – only to have Mark take his hand off the base of Ben’s cock and swallow him deeper down.

I’m getting Blowjob 101 from my gay best friend. Rebecca was almost dizzy – her eyes were wide, fixed on the sight in front of her.

“Jesus Christ,” Ben whispered, and Rebecca just about jumped out of her skin. “Jesus – stop it, or I’m going to-”

Mark pulled off with a slurp and a pop. “Yeah, ok,” he said, grinning, and then he put his mouth right back to what he had been doing and started bobbing faster. Ben’s hand locked around Mark’s shoulder, his knuckles tightening until they almost turned white, and put his other hand back to his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut.

Did he just – Rebecca blushed even harder when Mark abruptly pulled back and swallowed several times before sitting back up, his brown eyes sparkling.

“Good?” he asked, a little smug.

“Shut up, you know it was good,” Ben said hoarsely. “Sit back.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mark whispered, shifting until they had exchanged positions – Mark reclining on the couch, one hand lazily curled in Ben’s hair and his legs spread. “Yeah, that’d be fantastic.

“You didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did you?” Ben asked, and leaned down to lick slowly at Mark’s dick this time, prompting a small gasp.

I should go downstairs, Rebecca thought, pressing her hand to her mouth.
But she didn’t move, just watched as Ben slid his mouth down – he apparently had more practice, because he was able to swallow Mark whole on the first try, something that made Mark tighten his hand convulsively in Ben’s hair. His hips gave a tiny thrust, experimentally, and Ben squeezed his thigh.

Apparently that was ‘go ahead’ in ‘my mouth is full of cock’ language, because Mark held Ben still and thrust slowly in and out of his mouth, deep, biting down on the side of his hand to keep from voicing the small moans Rebecca could hear in his throat.

I should really go downstairs, before they figure out I’m here, Rebecca thought.

And then it didn’t matter, because Mark’s back arched off the couch and he bit down on his hand hard enough to leave teeth marks, and Ben made a little choking noise to echo Mark’s earlier one, swallowing hard.

Rebecca crept back down the stairs as quietly as she could, and laid down on the living room couch. Jesus H. Christ, tap dancing on a swimming pool, she thought, taking deep breaths to calm her heart rate and her blush. She could only hope to whatever gods were watching that neither of them had noticed – that I’m totally a dirty voyeur.

A car door slammed outside, and Rebecca sat bolt upright. “Ben, your parents are home!”

A flood of cursing sounded from the top of the stairs and Rebecca heard a door slam before Ben came pounding down the stairs, buttoning his pants and pulling his shirt back on. He flung himself on the couch next to Rebecca, breathing hard, when his parents came through the door.

“Where’s Mark?” Rebecca muttered out the side of her mouth, cursing her pale skin as she felt another blush creeping into her cheeks.

Thankfully, Ben took it as embarrassment at the situation. “In the bathroom. I hope he got all his clothes.”

Rebecca bit the inside of her cheek hard to keep from laughing or saying something inappropriate. She cheerfully greeted Ben’s parents, who looked startled to see her, and then turned as she heard feet on the stairs.

Mark was almost as red as his hair, and that –

“Ben, isn’t that one of your shirts?” Ben’s mother asked sharply.

Rebecca swallowed hard, seeing that Ben was entirely too startled to answer properly, and said, “You wouldn’t believe it, seriously – Mark, the biggest klutz on the planet, spilled water all down the front of his shirt. Ben let him borrow one of his.”

Chaperone, yeah right. More like cover story, and improv actor.

Apparently, Ben’s parents underestimated how badly their son wanted to get laid, too. They made the same assumption that everyone else’s parents always had – nobody could be rude enough to have sex with another friend in the house. They shrugged and went into the kitchen to unload their groceries.

Mark caught Ben’s gaze and sighed shakily, with a lopsided, relieved smile. Rebecca, red to the roots of her hair, pointed at him and laughed.

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